


Renascence

by arochilton



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, BROWNHAMTON, Blowjobs, Double Penetration, M/M, Masturbation, Pure Smut, Threesome, Will "DP Bottom Bitch Slut" Graham, Will is a dirty slut, light restrictive bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 02:19:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2331587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arochilton/pseuds/arochilton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Attempting to snoop on his favorite patient's cell but reaping only silence, Frederick Chilton realizes that one of his employees may be playing the microphones. What he didn't expect, however, was an invitation...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Renascence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foolslikeyou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolslikeyou/gifts), [PuppyWillGraham](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppyWillGraham/gifts).



> Renascence--noun, formal: the revival of something that has been dormant.

"Is sex dirty?  Only when it's being done right."

-Woody Allen

  

 

It’s a dark, calm evening at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. The weary day is winding to a close, and most of the employees have gone home for the night. Deciding to check on his prized prisoner, Frederick Chilton leans back in his office chair. The second that Chilton enfolds his ears with his white headphones, he is immediately aware that something is awry. Instead of the typical steady sound of soft breathing or light footfalls forged by the Velcro-laced sneakers of Will Graham pacing his cell, there is silence fastened in an accent of static.  
  
He cannot immediately fathom a conclusion as to why the microphones would be disabled. He checks the schedule, taking note of the orderly in charge of check and maintenance today.  
  
 _Brown_.  
  
Offering a colossal sigh to no one bar himself, Chilton tightly grips the glossy head of his cane and pulls himself to his feet. Confronting the orderly is on his mind, but he doesn’t feel like walking down hallways searching for him. There is nothing major going on today, no visit from any of Will Graham’s countless devotees. There is no logical explanation as to why the microphones should be dysfunctional, unless Brown simply miswired them.  
  
Chilton’s feet carry him down a flight of stairs as he takes care to balance his weight on his cane. He makes his way to the security room, intending to check the cameras for signs of anything askew. His heart nearly stops as his eyes search the contents of the room, focusing on the hazy lights and small movements emitting from every tiny screen—except one. Where a small image of Will Graham should be, the screen is a dark void, obviously not functional. Like he assumed regarding the microphones, the camera in Graham’s cell is disabled.  
  
Anger swells in Chilton’s chest as he exits the room, heading for Will Graham’s cell, determined to uncover the source for this misuse of his equipment. His purposeful trek down the long hallway is interrupted when he hears the unmistakable sound of indigent moaning. Realization sweeps the man, his stomach dropping instantaneously as he dares to creep forward, his steps light and his cane just barely brushing the floor.  
  
“Come on, Mr. Graham! Show me how you like it!”  
  
It’s Brown. Chilton recognizes the lilt in his voice, hears the harsh repetitive slap of skin on skin, registers Will’s choked yet wanton cries. So, this is Brown’s game. He must have known that Chilton would come investigating the systems when they failed to cooperate. Chilton lets a heated shiver flutter from the back of his neck south to his groin, igniting his body all over and ravishing his senses. Like a virus, blood rushes downward as he takes a slight step forward, eyes straining to see the spectacle despite the disturbance it has already caused in his day.  
  
“What if he hears us?” Will’s voice is rushed, shaky. From his position still a distance away from the cell, Chilton can just make out his sweaty curls, pitching forward with every thrust Matthew makes.  
  
“Hard to hear when his precious microphones aren’t working,” Brown hisses out, voice heavy. Rage stirs Chilton, but even though Matthew Brown’s disabling of the security devices in order to fuck Will Graham is a low blow, the psychiatrist can admit it’s turning him on. He glances down to his growing bulge, heart jumping.  
  
Even though he has been aware of how many people lust after Will Graham, he can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy that his own employee beat him to actually fucking him. Chilton longs to stand and spy to feed his own desires, but he doesn’t want to ruin their moment of pleasure, at least for now. He has plans. If Brown can seduce Will, then with a bit more effort, Chilton shouldn’t find the task too daunting.  
  
Straightening his tie and padding back to his office, he informs a passing orderly to convey to Brown to pay him a visit first thing the next morning. Smirking to himself, Chilton strides into his office, locking the door and seating himself on the center couch as he delves a hand into his pants, sighing at the relief his cock has been seeking. His mind travels to thoughts of Will Graham, as it always seems to. Echoes of those needy moans throw Chilton to a breaking point as he strokes himself, craving the inmate’s squirming form beneath him. A bead of sweat trickles down the back of his suit as the man picks up his pace, squeezing his eyes shut and filling his mind with nothing but the image of Will Graham.  
  
The prisoner’s name dampens his lips as he comes, out of breath and with a painstakingly obligatory agenda.  


**

  
  
A knock on his door the next morning finds Frederick Chilton at ease, hands folded on his desk as he commends the visitor to enter his office.  
  
Matthew Brown steps over the threshold, donned in his immaculate white nurse scrubs. The smirk that usually dominates his face is absent today, Chilton notes.  
  
“You wanted to see me, boss?” Matthew’s tone is concise and polite, which Chilton appreciates. Many of the orderlies don’t even pretend to give the man the time of day, even though he is chief of staff.  
  
“Yes, Mr. Brown. I am thankful you got my message,” Chilton leans back a bit in his chair, tilting his head. “But I believe we have a bit of business to discuss. Why were the microphones and cameras in Will Graham’s cell disabled yesterday?”  
  
Matthew doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink. His voice is steady as he constructs his reply. “Well, I was checking them yesterday morning and someone had pulled the mics out of their sockets. As for the camera, it was projecting a bit of static in the image, so I took some time and cleaned it. It’s working fine again now.”  
  
Bullshit. Even if Chilton didn’t know the truth, it was a pitiful story. However, it is essential to keep Matthew from knowing what Chilton saw. Enjoying this little game, he nods slightly, then continues. “It was brought to my attention last night that some strange noises were emitting from Will Graham’s unit. I don’t suppose you can enlighten me on the cause?”  
  
“Nightmares, sir,” Matthew responds quickly. “He gets them quite frequently. I would have thought you’d noticed.”  
  
“Indeed I have,” Chilton tells him. “Thank you, Matthew.”  
  
As the orderly nods and begins to exit, Chilton stands up, eyes narrowed. He taps his cane on the ground twice to get the other man’s attention. Chilton’s eyes are filled to the brim with a narrowed no-nonsense look, his features sharper than normal.  
  
“Matthew? Don’t ever let me catch you disabling any security measures on these premises ever again.”  
  
The response from Matthew is a startled flash of the eyes, and Chilton is positive that the orderly is aware that Chilton knows. He has the orderly in his hands now, and the younger man can sense the jealousy radiating off him. That trademark smirk returns, and he dips his head. “Of course, Dr. Chilton. Have a nice day.”  
  
Chilton stays standing for several moments, legs shaking slightly from inevitable anticipation. Matthew is up to something, but Chilton is capable of standing his own ground.  
  
The psychiatrist has no appointments today, so he entertains himself by reading over files and scrolling through forums created by fellow Baltimore psychiatrists. For lunch he consumes a salad (the fanciest kind he could find), and spends the remainder of the afternoon flipping through various books in his office. When dusk falls, most of the employees head home. Chilton stays in his office, deciding to snoop on Will Graham’s cell, mainly to make sure the mics are still hooked but hoping for a different outcome.  
  
The second the headphones embrace his ears, Chilton’s wishes come true. As he chews nonchalantly on a pen, his throat goes dry at the conversation he hears.  
  
"You're so beautiful, Mr. Graham,"  
  
"No..."  
  
"Yes, you are. Can I touch you?"  
  
"This isn't a good idea."  
  
"Of course it is. What's the worst he can do, put us in jail?"  
  
Chilton's face is heated and rushed. Matthew's set a trap for him, but, well, three can play at this game. He opens a drawer on his desk, grabbing two condoms and a small bottle of lube, silently praising himself for having the necessities at his disposal. Adjusting the tie bar on his silk tie, he removes the headphones and snatches his cane, walking forcefully down flights of stairs and towards Will's cell. As he approaches, he makes his presence known, his steps more precise and his cane tapping the floor more flamboyantly.  
  
"Shit," Will says audibly, and as Chilton steps in close proximity to the cell, he is treated with the sight of a sweaty Will Graham, jumpsuit unbuttoned, down on his knees in front of a half-naked Matthew Brown. The door has been left open. Almost an invitation.  
  
"Well, well, well," Chilton folds his arms across his chest, staring down the men. "It seems to me, Mr. Brown, that you are infringing upon my patient."  
  
Matthew just stares back.  
  
"What I should do is fire you and ensure that this doesn't ever occur again. However...an arrangement can be agreed upon." Chilton looks to Will, so needy and vulnerable on the hard floor of his cell, and his heart races faster. He glances back to Matthew, giving him an imploring look.  
  
"Would you like to join us, doctor?" Matthew asks sweetly, the essence of innocence, eyes wide.  
  
"Indeed I would," Chilton smirks, allowing himself entrance into the cell, propping his cane against the wall. He needs to teach Matthew a lesson about proper employee etiquette, but he has his sights set on Will. The man is still on the floor, shaking slightly, from arousal or confusion Chilton can't tell.  
  
"Rise," he demands, gesturing his hand so Will gets the incentive. Will obliges, and Chilton's lips immediately lock on his, hands tangling in the man's curly locks. Will relaxes a bit, understanding that Chilton's business is not to get him into further trouble.  
  
"I do believe that the concept of sharing should have come from this precise scenario," Matthew notes, grabbing Chilton's arm and pushing him aside to allow him access to Will. Hastily unbuttoning his suit, shirt, and trousers, Chilton snakes out of them and folds them neatly in a corner, and he is left standing in his black briefs with a very noticeable bulge.  
  
Matthew backs off from Will, eyes turning to Chilton, taking care to notice the long scar trailing his stomach, then his gaze travels back to Will.  
  
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Chilton asks Will carefully. The inmate nods.  
  
"I'm all yours," he extends to the both of them.  
  
Will's desire for intimacy betrays any apprehensions he has hidden somewhere inside him. But he doesn't care. In case his erection doesn't display the horny severity of his needs, he wants this. A chorus of "please" dances through his brain, making his blood rush.  
  
He can feel the jealousy still present in Chilton radiating from the man. The situation doesn't matter to the psychiatrist as long as he can have some part of Will. Seeing the man so vulnerable is something new, and Will revels in the profound reality of it all. However, Will doesn't have much time to think because the man is peering intently at him, eyes hungry.  
  
"Strip," he orders, raising his hand slightly. Will notices the lack of limp in his step as he pads forward, dropping to his knees. For Chilton, nothing matters but Will. Matthew's presence is secondary, but Chilton's thankful nod towards Matthew does not go unnoticed as the orderly drags Will's ugly hospital-issue briefs down around his legs.  
  
Chilton has seen Will naked before, of course. He's no stranger to watching him on the cameras during his allotted shower time. He even snuck a glance when Will was preparing for trial. The man's hands had been shaking then as he knotted his tie around his neck. Chilton notices now that they still are, just slightly.  
  
Will sucks in a breath as Chilton dives forward, mouth enveloping his cock in a wave of wet heat. "Oh, fuck," he groans. The man's movements are hurried yet meaningful, one hand reaching up to cup Will's balls as his tongue languidly traces the man's length.  
  
Matthew smiles above him, grabbing Chilton's hair harshly and dragging him down farther onto Will's cock.  
  
Will can't think of a better thing to be doing, even if he's still in jail. These two men worshipping him is enough to stir his blood in sweet ecstasy. He draws in a breath each time he watches his dick slide in between Chilton's soft lips, admiring the little grunts the man makes. Matthew is having fun with Chilton, hands tugging the man's soft product-filled hair, loving the way he gags and sputters when Will's cock tickles the back of his throat.  
  
Will's balls start to tighten and his breathing deepens, so Chilton backs off, breathing hard. A tingle of excitement goes through Will. Fooling around with Matthew had been incredible, but this...he has been reduced to a personal playground for two men who want him desperately, yet loving every minute of it. Chilton stands up, lips swollen. His black briefs are damp, pre-cum soaking them through in a stream of uncomfortable proximity.  
  
"Is this what you do locked in your office all day?" Matthew teases, grabbing Chilton's face in his hands and pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips. "Sit there with an uncomfortable boner with your mind focused solely on Will Graham?" His hands travel down to the band of the man's underwear, tugging it down. Chilton breathes out a sigh as his cock bobs free. He takes himself in hand, stroking lightly, gasping at the contact. Matthew, the last to undress fully, kicks off his white pants and underwear, turning to face Chilton, smirking.  
  
"What now, boss?" His tone is mocking, but Chilton doesn't care.  
  
"Prepare him," Chilton says nonchalantly, eyes floating to Will, who has his sights set on the men's erections, body shaking with anticipation. "There's lube in my suit pocket."  
  
"You came prepared," Matthew laughs. "I should have known."  
  
Chilton doesn't respond; instead, he walks forward and demands that Will get on all fours. Before the psychiatrist can even give an instruction, the inmate has his mouth on Chilton's cock. The man nearly falls forward, all else forgotten as his hips snap forward and he relentlessly fucks the prisoner's mouth.  
  
It's Will's turn to almost fall down as he feels Matthew's hands on his ass, spreading his cheeks open and inserting a lube-coated finger into his hole.  
  
"Open up for me, Mr. Graham," he hisses out.  
  
Will squirms, body taut yet needy, wantonly groaning, the vibrations setting Chilton's mind ablaze. Matthew teases him, circling his finger and urging him open as Chilton's cock pounds into the back of his throat. Will tries his best to lick with his tongue to pleasure his psychiatrist more, but as Matthew slides in another finger, then another, he's crying out, saliva spilling from his mouth, dripping enticingly from Chilton's dick as the man pulls back, letting Matthew continue scissoring his fingers, pumping hard. The orderly looks up at Chilton with a devious grin.  
  
"Want to trade?" he smirks.  
  
"By all means," Chilton returns the look, lips curving upward as he walks around Will as Matthew steps aside. The chief of staff squats down, letting his fingers tickle across one of Will's cheeks, then spreading them with large hands, plunging his tongue against the man's hole, licking him open. The older man gasps as he tastes Will, deciding he needs more and plunging his tongue deeper. Will writhes, crying out a garbled mixture of "please, oh, fuck, please," over and over, until the prisoner feels the head of Matthew's cock press against his mouth. Will grabs onto Matthew's legs, hardly able to support himself anymore. The orderly taps his dick lightly on Will's lips until he opens them, allowing him access.  
  
Will swears he's on the verge of coming, but finds release to be just out of reach. His cock, suspended in air, is throbbing, but finds no friction. It doesn't matter, though, because Chilton is insistently sucking and licking and slurping, fucking his ass with his tongue, eager, slutty noises escaping his lips, and Matthew's cock tastes the perfect combination of bitterness and salt. Will loves the weight of it in his mouth, loves the tickle of Chilton's tongue against him.  
  
Just like that, Chilton's tongue is gone, and his mouth is at Will's ear. He nips his earlobe gently. "You ready, Will?" he whispers, and strokes a soft line down Will's spine with a finger, tickling lightly.  
  
"Yes, fuck," Will manages to choke out around Matthew's dick.  
  
Satisfied, Chilton saunters over to his neglected clothing, retrieving a condom, unwrapping it, and sliding it onto his prick. Coming back to Will, the doctor slaps his ass playfully, watching him try and rock back against him.  
  
"Please, Frederick," he breathes out in a broken, rushed voice, one hand stroking Matthew, the other supporting his own weight. "Fuck, please."  
  
"Hm," Chilton reasons, pretending to be indifferent as he lazily drags his cock along the crease of Will's ass.  
  
Matthew slams his own dick into Will's mouth, giving the man something to focus on. He relaxes a bit, hands shaking as Chilton continues to tease him, pressing just his tip against Will's waiting hole. Will whines desperately, not sure he can withstand the slow pace Chilton is presenting him with.  
  
"Fuck him, boss," Matthew demands, running a hand through Will's hair casually. "Feel for yourself how nice his tight ass feels."  
  
Grabbing Will's hips, Chilton thrusts into him instantly, filling him. Will screams, loving the pain, loving the pleasure, loving every second of it. He's suspended in some precious sanction of pleasure he has never known before, a cock down his throat and a cock in his ass. There is no other way to live, Will decides as the head of Chilton's dick brushes against his prostate, causing him to grit his teeth, groaning.  
  
He can barely keep a handle on himself, spitting all over Matthew, pre-cum dribbling from his cock and onto the floor. As Chilton's thrusts grow deeper and harder, Will raises his voice, his moans echoing in the ornate building and bouncing off the walls. "Fuck me," he yells, needing more, wanting more, tears falling from his eyes at his need, desiring to feel Chilton's cock reach depths not even remotely possible. A beautiful cocktail of lust swirls in his mind, numbing every other sense but the feeling of Chilton and Matthew inside him.  
  
Barely decreasing his speed, Chilton makes a quick decision, beckoning Matthew to lean forward. He whispers in his ear, an order, then licks his neck, sloppy and wet, almost as an afterthought.  
  
Matthew pulls out of Will with no explanation, quickly rushing outside the cell and disappearing.  
  
"Wha-?" Will starts to ask, already craving something to fill his mouth as Chilton continues sliding into him.  
  
"Tsk, tsk," Chilton clucks, grabbing Will's shoulders and pulling him up so his back is against the other man's chest. With this position, Chilton can now reach a new angle. Will turns his head to lick his way into Chilton's mouth. Their tongues just meet, slurping hungrily, when Matthew returns, holding something behind his back.  
  
"You're very loud, Mr. Graham," Matthew smiles. "And although most of the employees have gone home or have not yet reported for night duty, Dr. Chilton presumed it might be a good idea to restrict your whoreish screams to a lower decibel." He presents Will with the mask, his mask, clear and restrictive, placing it over his mouth and strapping it tightly in the back. Will lets out a muffled moan as Chilton continues to pound into him, barely recognizing the wanton voice as his own.  
  
"Such a good little slut for us, your shrink and your nurse," Matthew laughs.  
  
The mask hugs Will's skin tight, pressing his cheeks hard and making his face ache. Matthew smiles slyly, wrapping a hand around Will's exposed, neglected cock and pumping it thrice before backing away, sauntering off to retrieve the last condom from Chilton's clothes.  
  
"My turn," he chides, luring Chilton out from under Will, taking his position between his legs. Chilton, breathing hard, crawls to Will's front, grinning broadly as he witnesses what he has created.  
  
Matthew is relentless, fucking Will as if it is his sole purpose in life. He has his hands clamped to the man's shoulders, pulling him back against him even more. And Will, dear Will, is heaving, his hot breath fogging up the clarity of the mask, his moans edging on narrow chokes and needy whines. Chilton snakes a hand around Will's head, stroking those curls and forcing the inmate to look him in the eyes. He's so beautiful like this, even more so than usual, being taken apart and remade again. Will's cock is bobbing in air, hard and heavy, and in a split second, Chilton's slick mouth envelops him, his tongue sliding silkily along his shaft. Will swears he's died and reached paradise, because heaven couldn't possibly match the sheer pleasures coursing through his body, Chilton sucking his cock like was born to do it, his ass filled with his nurse's thick cock slamming against his prostate and stretching his hole in a beautiful rhythm. His face hurts; the mask is too tight, but he's enjoying it, hating the way he loves it, but moving his hips hard to match Matthew's rhythm, his dick sliding against the roof of Chilton's mouth. He clamps his hands into his psychiatrist's hair, hanging on for dear life, wanting this moment to last forever but knowing he's reaching his limit. He tries to hang onto that precipice of pleasure, suspended in heaven, but his body has other plans. He can feel himself near the edge, and then Chilton pulls back, pupils blown, taking himself in hand, adopting a pondering expression as he slides his hand along his length. Leaning forward, he stares into Will's eyes, smiling.  
  
"Do you want two cocks in your ass?"  
  
The mere suggestion of it makes Will moan in mindless consent, barely fathoming what's happening as Chilton pulls him down, off Matthew and onto him as the psychiatrist lies down on the cold floor. Will falls against him, mask so fogged that Chilton can't even see him lick his lips in anticipation. The older man spreads the inmate's cheeks as he slides into him, his head hitting the floor as he groans deeply. Will slips his hand down to trace over the raised skin of Chilton's long abdominal scar. Chilton longs to tear off the mask and kiss him, but enjoys the pleading sight of his eyes, wide and needy.  
  
"Come on, Nurse Brown," Chilton manages to gasp, bucking his hips in a tantalizing rhythm, causing Will to whimper in pleasure. "Don't be shy."  
  
"Don't mind if I do," Matthew strides forward, gait silkily seductive, bending his knees and lining up his cock. Will shivers, knowing there shouldn't be room, predicting that they won't fit, expecting it to hurt like hell. An explosion of worry runs through his head, but then Matthew's slipping his dick past his rim, sliding so damn perfectly against Chilton's, and Will is sure he's died and reached heaven because nothing earthly can possibly be this incredible. He's filled so fully, so completely, so perfectly, being torn apart and at the same time put together again. He swears this must be a cosmic reward, some monumental compensation for the absolute torture he's dealt with for the past several weeks. Will is awake, he is alive, he is made new.  
  
Chilton is on another planet, gasping and grunting as Matthew's balls slam into his again and again. The rhythm they set is slow at first, then faster as Will rocks back against them, so damn slutty, the mask barely muffling the loud screams of ecstasy escaping his lips.  
  
When Chilton reaches a shaking hand down to grasp Will's cock, the prisoner knows he's done for. Torn between pleasures, he thrusts into his psychiatrist's hand, shaking his head wildly, wishing the mask was anywhere but around his head.  
  
"Come for us, baby," Chilton pleads, sliding his hand perfectly along the boy's shaft. Looking back into the man's eyes is all it takes and Will is on cloud nine, seeing stars as he comes, spilling into Chilton's hand, spurting hot cum all over the man's belly as his ass tightens and spasms around the men's cocks.  
  
When Will breaks free of euphoria, he is painfully aware of how much his body stings. He clambers onto the floor, waiting for Matthew to unfasten the mask.  
  
Finally able to breathe free, Will takes several deep, heavy gasps for air, then stares at the men with wide eyes, glancing at their obvious erections. He beckons them to their feet, unable to form spoken words amidst the burning sensation in his throat. Still kneeling and struck in a post-orgasmic haze, Will wraps a hand around each man, pumping hard. Tearing off each condom in turn, he then delves his mouth onto Matthew, sucking hard and precisely while continuing to play with Chilton's keening cock. He switches off, back and forth between his two captors, until he fears he can't no more. Reduced to pumping again, he massages his hands along their lengths, loving the way they start to break in unison.  
  
Chilton comes first, making the most beautiful slutty noises as his load coats Will's face, decorating him in ropes of bitter white. Will catches some on his tongue, hissing lowly. And then Matthew's coming, drops landing in Will's mouth and making the boy squirm with delight as he finally lets go, falling forward on the floor in a daze of tired, wistful bliss.  
  
"Well," Chilton says, glancing at the orderly still trying to catch his breath and then at the heaving inmate. "Thank you, gentlemen. I can't remember the last time I had this much fun.  
  
"Maybe you can introduce me to more of your unorthodox methods soon, Dr. Chilton," Will breathes out. Chilton smiles.  
  
"You know where to find me," Matthew chuckles, nodding his head at Chilton. The psychiatrist retrieves his clothes, pulling them on hastily, as if he hates to have to resort to it. Once he's dressed, he snatches his cane from the wall he left it leaning against, and stumbles along the hallway and up the stairs.  
  
In almost a trance of pleasure and disbelief, he decides against driving home, and instead plops himself on the couch in his office, closing his eyes, mind drifting upon beautiful, dirty ways to make Will Graham as gorgeously unkempt as he has just witnessed him.

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Sarah, Nicole, Steph, and basically all my Twitter friends. I'm not even sure that this ship existed until several weeks ago.  
> Hope you enjoyed. Feel free to come bother me on Tumblr (chilten.tumblr)!


End file.
